


Hold On Tight, This Ride Is A Wild One

by terramous



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [10]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, WEAR A HELMET, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:47:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26645503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terramous/pseuds/terramous
Summary: A sticky warmth, what he guessed was blood, dripped down the side of his face and caught in his hair as he stared up at the sky.A deep navy sheet, sucking the light from the surroundings. Carlos didn’t think he’d ever seen the stars shine so brightly.He couldn’t move--why couldn’t he move?💙Isn't it funny how quickly everything can go so wrong?
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775494
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68
Collections: 9-1-1 Lone Star ▶ Carlos Reyes / Tyler Kennedy "TK" Strand





	Hold On Tight, This Ride Is A Wild One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [howtosingit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/howtosingit/gifts).



> The finale of Brian Week!!! 
> 
> So happy birthday Brian, I hope this fic is a satisfactory finale to the week of fics <3 and you did say that you like college AUs
> 
> For the Bad Things Happen Bingo square - Comatose
> 
> say it after me, self indulgent fic time

Pain.

That was all Carlos’ brain could register. The sting of the asphalt that tore through the leg of his jeans. The burning deep in his shoulder, webbing from his elbow to his jaw. The helmet he had been wearing only moments ago had disappeared into the darkness.

A sticky warmth, what he guessed was blood, dripped down the side of his face and caught in his hair as he stared up at the sky. 

A deep navy sheet, sucking the light from the surroundings. Carlos didn’t think he’d ever seen the stars shine so brightly.

He couldn’t move-- _why couldn’t he move?_

The numbness in his hands and feet scared him. He should be able to move, to see how far away the bike was, to see if TK was okay. He wanted to reach out and find the comfort of TK by his side, to tangle their fingers together and bask in the warmth of the contact, but he was met with cold and emptiness.

Instead, he only had the stars for comfort. Distant celestial companions. Tiny twinkling lights from giant fiery balls of gas, a million miles away. Carlos pondered the idea that if the universe was much older, that the twinkling would not be as sparse, replaced by a sheet of glitter as stars filled his vision, illuminating the landscape. 

Knowing that the slightest movement would send pain ricocheting throughout his body like a stray lightning bolt, Carlos had no option but to lie against the road and wait.

It was the waiting that killed him. 

He didn’t know how long he’d been there, or how long he would remain there. Help could be seconds or hours away. There wasn’t anything he could do but wait. 

He was trapped, pressed against the road, fighting off the pressing urge to give into unconsciousness. 

He’d watched enough poorly-written tv shows with Paul to know that falling asleep in a situation like this wouldn’t do him any good. But unlike the dramas, there was no one at his side, taking his hand in theirs. No one holds onto him with all they’ve got as they beg him with tears in their eyes to stay awake. To stay with them. 

Cars whizzed by, narrowly missing Carlos as the wind kissed his hair. None of them stopping. None of them slowing. All swerving to miss an unnecessary obstacle, continuing their commutes. 

But Carlos never saw any headlights. It must’ve been in his head. 

He hoped so desperately for someone to find them that he was imagining people driving past. The breeze running past became the roar of engines, and the ruffling of his hair was the wind, nothing more. 

All he remembered was being tucked closely behind TK, his head pressed into the grooves of the older man’s back, and now he was discarded somewhere along the road.

Where was TK? Was he okay?

He didn’t want to admit it, but Carlos knew that if TK was any better off than him, he’d have been over there with him, phone in hand, calling for help.

“TK?” he called into the empty air, wincing as the pain in his head flared at the slightest movement. 

There was silence. 

Dread sunk heavily in Carlos’ chest. The absence of a response served only to confirm what Carlos already knew. What he was afraid of. TK was hurt. Badly. 

Carlos wondered if he was dying. If TK was dying. The rush of blood in his ears as life slowly ebbed from his grasp, slipping away like sand through his fingers, alongside his sense of passing time. TK could be alive and well, being treated as Carlos lay still.

He wished he had just enough strength to overcome the pain and turn his head. Hopefully enough to see TK, to verify for himself what had become of the warm smile and gentle eyes. 

But he couldn’t do anything, paralyzed by his pain and in his fear of what he would see if he looked.

Carlos prided himself on being a voice of reason for his reckless friends. “Don’t climb onto the basketball hoop and try to sit in the net”, “don’t jump off of ledges into lakes you don’t know the depth of”, “don’t dip a marshmallow on a stick into whiskey and try to set it on fire with a lighter so you can have s’mores without a fire”, “don’t try to fight a guy with biceps twice your body mass for whatever reason”. 

Don’t get on a bike without a helmet, let alone a motorcycle. Like the former examples, Carlos should’ve been more persistent in his nagging. Or his “buzzkillability” as Iris lovingly dubbed it. But persistence kept Iris from setting her hair on fire and Paul from breaking his neck. 

As much as he loved his friends, they were exceptionally stupid at times.

He knew he shouldn’t have let himself be so easily swayed by TK’s aloof attitude towards riding the bike without a helmet. He should’ve put his foot down, and then maybe they wouldn’t be in this situation.

But hindsight is 20/20.

The picture of the stars never changed. Of course it didn’t, the sheer distance between him and his celestial companions was far greater than what light could travel before the death of those stars. 

Stars that shine the brightest, live the shortest. Blue and white giants, with their colossal size and brilliantly hot surfaces, didn’t last as long. They were bombs waiting to detonate, leaving behind black holes or neutron stars. The biggest vapourised completely. 

Like the stars, maybe Carlos was already dead and it hadn’t quite sunk in yet. 

After all, at what point is he dead? When his heart gives out, or when someone is around to feel the absence of a pulse? 

Like a picture, a moment frozen in time, he was waiting, never changing. 

Maybe, much like the lively twinkling in the sky of long-dead stars, he wasn’t really there.

💙

“You can wear the helmet if it makes you feel safer,” TK offered with a shrug, holding it out towards Carlos. 

Awkwardly taking the helmet in his hands, Carlos rotated it as if to take a closer look. The sunset-streaked colours of the sky were easily reflected in its polished surface, just as clearly as Carlos’ worried frown and pinched eyebrows.

TK took the helmet and helped Carlos settle it on over his head with careful hands. The new weight was weird and put pressure on his neck, but the gentle curve of TK’s lips made Carlos forget about the sensation, smiling back at TK. The breeze gently ruffled TK’s hair, pushing it out of its neatly kept shape.

“But you won’t have a helmet on. What if we get into a crash? Let’s just take the bus.”

“We won’t get into a crash, trust me.” Carlos shouldn’t have. But TK was so sure, so calm. “Take my jacket; it’ll protect you from road rash if we do get into an accident.”

Carlos wanted to bring up the bus option again. Sure, it wasn’t the most pleasant way to get anywhere, but having a metal shield between him and other people on the road was a lot less anxiety-inducing. 

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Carlos said as TK zipped up the jacket over him. It was bulky and uncomfortable and didn’t fit quite right, but it felt like a barrier around him. “A denim jacket won’t protect you.”

TK rolled his eyes, giving up on trying to zip the jacket up fully. Carlos’s frame was wider than TK’s so it was no use to force it. 

“Yeah, but I’m not as paranoid as you. I’ve been riding this bike for years and I’ve never even come close to crashing.”

“Great. You jinxed it. Happy now?” Carlos huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. The jacket shifted weirdly as he moved, the material was too stiff and had no give so it slid upwards and the zipper came further undone. His distaste towards the situation probably got lost in the gigantic helmet around his skull.

TK flicked the visor down over Carlos’ pout with a triumphant grin. To Carlos’ further dismay. 

“It’ll be fine, Carlos.”

TK’s hands were soft as he wound his fingers with Carlos’.

💙

Carlos thought he could cry with relief when a yellow-tinted light washed over him. Help was here. He could hear the rumble of an engine idling as the unmistakable sound of a car door opening cut through the air.

“Sir, are you okay?”

He wasn’t dead. Just numbly frozen where he lay. The pain was no longer shocking to him. He did not yearn to cry out in pain but the ache still rendered him mute. The fire resonating throughout his neck and jaw kept his communication in paralysis.

Under the sickly glow of the headlights, Carlos couldn’t make out any of the woman’s features. She was masked too heavily in shadow for him to see more than a sparkle when the light caught her eyes right, or the glimmering gold that rippled through her hair. The light formed a halo overhead as she leant over him.

All he could do was blink at this mystery woman.

She repeated the question, her fingers reaching for his wrist. Checking his pulse. 

Now that Carlos’ sluggish brain caught up, he tried to find the words he needed.

He wanted to speak, to ask if TK was okay. Where was he? Was anyone with him? Was he alone? Was he hurt? Was help coming for him? Did he wonder where Carlos was?

Was he alive? 

TK hadn’t been wearing a helmet and he had nothing more than denim between him and the road. With all of the pain Carlos was in with his protection that was designed to handle a crash, his gut writhed at the idea of what fate befell TK.

He couldn’t ask this kind woman. He didn’t know how to ask.

There were more words that were entirely meaningless to Carlos, trying to process any of what was going on was beginning to give him a headache. More so than the one he already had, a dull pulsing at the base of his skull in time with the beating of his heart. 

He just wanted to know if TK was okay, and to get off the damn road. 

The cold, unforgiving asphalt only served as a reminder that he and TK were no longer sitting across from each other at a dinky little dining table while TK tried to crack jokes. 

It felt like an eternity ago. 

💙

As the pounding bass of some trashy music that was turned up way too high became a rhythmic thud lacing between Carlos’ ears, he was seriously regretting agreeing to this. 

But he kept his promise to Iris. Iris, whom he had lost the second a fairly attractive girl stepped away from the crowd of drunkenly dancing students. 

Nursing a red solo cup of questionable contents, this girl had smiled at Iris and from that moment, she was hooked. Underneath pulsing lights in hues of reds and blues, they disappeared into the mass of surging bodies. 

By now, unfortunately, Iris was probably shoving her tongue down this stranger’s throat in a closet. Romantic.

Carlos knew what he was getting into when Iris crashed through his door looking like a tornado of bad ideas. “Let’s go to a party tonight,” she said. “It’ll be fun,” she said. “You can do something that isn’t hiding away with your laptop and textbooks until dawn,” she said.

It always played out the same way. Iris would remedy her feelings with the feeling of her hands on some stranger’s body. She never failed to leave inhibition behind at her first taste of alcohol.

Liquid courage.

And courage was very attractive on Iris.

Iris Blake was a drug to intoxicated college students. A fit young dance student with dark eyes and tousled brown hair. Clothes that were tight in all the right places. Iris loved the attention.

Carlos hoped that the stranger was thinking she’d have Iris beyond the stroke of midnight. A routine of finding and making out with anyone who would give her the time of day and never calling or texting after dawn.

Under low lights and masked in the taste of alcohol on their tongues, Iris would forget who she had spent the night with by the time she found Carlos awkwardly hovering in a corner.

They could sit down and talk about life choices but Iris insisted that youth was the time to take risks, and make mistakes, and kiss that guy. Carlos wouldn’t judge her, he’d just be there to support Iris in her soul-searching. Even if her methods were questionable at best. 

Carlos was nursing his own cup by now, taking refuge in the small kitchen of the apartment. People fluttered through occasionally so it was the quietest place to wait for Iris. 

The alcohol was bitter and tasteless as Carlos mindlessly sipped it, scrolling through his phone and hoping that Iris would finish soon. Some nights, they were gone before midnight, others, Carlos waited until the sun kissed the horizon before Iris found him and asked if he could help her find her jacket. Somehow, they never seemed to find it. Iris had lost far too many jackets to these nights, and Carlos had lost even more hoodies to the chivalry of “lending” them to Iris when she was cold.

As much as he would prefer it if all of his hangouts with Iris were movie nights and milkshakes, he was at least comforted knowing that Iris had someone to make sure she made it home safe.

“You look like you don’t want to be here.”

Carlos looked up from his screen to the guy standing before him. He looked as awkward as Carlos felt, hair askew and an unsure smile.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Most people who want to be here are dancing. Y’know, out there.” The stranger gestured to the door leading out and into the living room where the heart of the music was.

“And you’re not out there.”

“They need a seperate party for awkward friends who don’t want to party but are trying to be supportive.”

“Did you just read my mind?”

“It’s not hard.”

Carlos feigned throwing his drink at this stranger, laughing at the way he flinched. Iris wasn’t the only one who had abandoned their inhibitions that night. “I’m Carlos.”

“TK,” he said, holding out a hand.

Setting his empty cup down on the counter, Carlos smiled and took TK’s hand, giving it his best first-impression shake.

TK chuckled lightly, his bright eyes seeming to twinkle as he did so.

Carlos returned the smile, a warmth flooding his senses.

💙

“Hey, can you tell me your name? I’m Michelle; I’m with EMS.” A paramedic. Help. _Finally._

“I’m Carlos.” Fuck, even two words hurt, the movement of his jaw sending his head spinning with pain. “Is- is he okay?” 

“Your friend is in good hands, but you’re my concern. Where does it hurt?”

Deflection. She didn’t want to answer, so she changed the subject. Bad news. Sometimes, Carlos wished he had tuned out Iris’ incessant ramblings. This was one of those times.

You can’t always follow your dreams into the expanses of the sky. You need a safety net to fall back on if you can’t cling to the stars. For Iris, medicine was that safety net. As a consequence of her psychology class, she was in Carlos’ head far more often than he liked.

He could still picture Iris hanging halfway off her bed, legs propped against the wall and a poster for the university’s dance crew. Her dark hair was an unbrushed tousled mess spilling to the floor as she told Carlos that therapy wasn’t evil but repressing emotions was. _“When someone asks you a question and you change the subject, it means that you’re afraid of the answer, or at least their reaction to it. It’s deflection, you do it all the time.”_

“Carlos, where does it hurt?”

Reality. A cruel and unjust thing, full of aching and numbness. 

“My neck.” It was only then that Carlos had been made aware of the plastic collar stabilising his head. It was not comfortable. But he was really in too much pain to complain. 

“Anywhere else?”

“Everywhere. How’s TK?”

“It looks like your shoulder is dislocated, maybe broken. They’ll be able to get a better idea at the hospital.” A bright light briefly passed between his eyes. “Pupils are even and reactive to light. You could have a concussion, but I doubt it’s severe.”

He couldn’t even find it in himself to be relieved, all he could think about was how much pain he was in and how it was bound to be so much worse for TK. 

💙

“You should dance with me.”

Carlos looked Iris’ sweaty frame up and down and scrunched up his expression. “I’ll pass.”

“It’ll be fun!” Iris huffed, shooting Carlos a half-hearted glare.

“I don’t dance,” Carlos explained, lifting his textbook as if it proved his point. It didn’t, he’d had this page open for at least half an hour, constantly running his eyes over the same passage in the desperate hope that something would stick. “I’m here for moral support.”

Iris crossed her arms with a disappointed huff, “You do. I’ve seen you dancing around the kitchen when you think I’m too hungover to notice.”

“In what world does me dancing while doing dishes count?”

“This one. It’s just me here,” Iris gave a dramatic sweep of her arm towards the empty space to prove her point, “and we’re in a dance studio so you might as well.”

“If I do this, will you leave me alone?”

“Definitely.”

Carlos sighed, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle and set his textbook aside. He was thankful to be saved from the torment of organic chemistry, but also entirely dreading the fool he was about to make of himself. Iris Blake really didn’t need more blackmail material on him. He would honestly be at her mercy for the rest of his life. 

She had videos of him doing karaoke to Britney Spears, and many, _many_ other embarrassing receipts stored away for whenever she needed a favour. 

“Just glide to the side and switch the direction you’re pointing,” Iris instructed, demonstrating the few steps with the grace of a sweeping breeze on a summer day. 

They were very basic instructions but Carlos had more than enough trouble keeping up with each new set of moves. Iris, however, soared like a bird in flight. It was always a breathtaking moment to watch her dance, moving so fluidly and without flaw. The performance Iris presented looked natural, a combination of the dance in her veins and hours of gruelling practice. It paid off.

“Now,” Iris met Carlos’ eyes in the mirror across from them, “spin on one foot, tucking your arms in. Give me three.” 

It was a mistake letting Iris convince him to do this, one confident spin turned into a second shaky turn and by the third, he was a stumbling mess across the floor. A tornado unable to gather its bearings.

Until he collided with the solid form which he assumed was a wall, and then what was definitely the floor. The air rushed from his lungs upon impact.

It wasn’t until he heard a breathless, _“woah,”_ that Carlos noticed the arms around him. He had been caught. But these arms were not stringy enough and the voice far too soft to be Iris.

Reluctantly, Carlos removed his head from this stranger’s chest and looked over to meet a bemused set of light eyes. Framed by an oddly familiar face.

TK. From the party. TK from the party, in the dance studio. TK from the party, in the dance studio, holding Carlos in his arms.

Carlos wasn’t one to use the term “gay crisis” liberally, but he felt that this situation warranted the title.

Carlos shot across the room at lightning speed, much to Iris’ amusement. “Sorry. I- uh, don’t dance.”

TK just laughed. He truly was way less intimidating when he smiled, but he was infinitely more beautiful, so much so that it left Carlos winded.. Carlos wasn’t sure if he had been recognised yet. 

“You okay? That was quite a tumble,” TK chuckled as he sat up, sweeping a hand through his ruffled hair.

“I’m okay, thank you for catching me.” Knocking a pretty boy onto the floor with your terrible dance moves. Way to go Carlos, that’s not embarrassing at all.

“No worries.” Another warm smile, was TK secretly filled with sunshine and rainbows? TK turned to Iris. “Don’t be rude, introduce me to your friend.” Crap. Carlos debated how fast he could get to the window and fling himself out of it and into the bushes, never to re-emerge.

“This is Carlos, my roommate. Carlos, this is TK.” Iris leaned a little bit closer to Carlos, as if to create a private bubble between them. “He’s the one I, um, told you about.”

Oh. _Oh._ The incredibly attractive, slightly younger dancer whom Iris had her eyes and hands on for a while. Iris had confessed to Carlos in the deep hours of the night how he and this dancer had been caught making out in just about everywhere there is to make out. The practice room. Bathrooms. A broom closet. Everywhere.

And then TK pulled Iris aside one day, with his head in his hands and tear tracks staining his cheeks as told her that he was gay. Iris couldn’t even find it in herself to be disappointed, and just told TK as many times as he needed, that it was okay.

It was embarrassing to know so much about a stranger, being able to look into his eyes and know far too many of his secrets.

“That’s all in the past, we’re cool now.” TK waved it off. “But you, the infamous best friend of Iris Blake. I thank you for your service. Putting up with her is a lot of work, especially for one person. The stress must be debilitating.” TK paused for a moment, his expression calculating. “Didn’t we meet at that party last week?”

“Oh? Did we? I don’t really remember, I must’ve had too much to drink. Sorry.” This was awkward. Carlos was awkward. Why did he let Iris drag him here?

Iris’ expression screamed _liar_ at him. 

Having your best friend who knows every little thing about you in the same room as you and the guy you’re trying to lie to is not ideal. She offered him a piercing glare as well as a mischievous grin. Carlos so desperately wanted to communicate to her that she should keep her mouth shut or he’d never speak to her again- or for the next two days- out of spite, but TK would easily pick up on that. 

Carlos really didn’t need any help embarrassing himself further, so he hoped that Iris picked up on his telepathic begging of her to save him the torment of exposing him to her friend. 

“That’s okay,” TK said, giving Carlos yet another smile that left him lightheaded. “I’d love to spend some time getting to know the infamous Carlos Reyes.”

When TK winked at him, Carlos swore he could die on the spot. 

💙

Carlos itched to see TK, having caught only a glimpse of him being unloaded from the other ambulance. It made his heart clench, just thinking about what happened and how bad it could be for TK. The worst case scenarios keep running circles in his brain, he had no way of shutting them down. He’d had the helmet, he’d had the bike jacket, and he still felt like he’d been hit by a truck. 

He couldn’t stand to imagine how much worse it was for TK. He’d seen all the blood, so much of it that his stomach churned and he’d never be able to see the colour red again without wanting to throw up.

Since passing through the doors, he’d completely lost sight of TK. As much as he hoped and prayed that TK would be okay, he knew that there was no outcome to this where they’d both be perfectly fine and discharged by tomorrow. 

More people died in motorcycle accidents than cars, would TK just become another number in the statistics? 

"Ooh, that is definitely dislocated," the doctor hissed in sympathy as the stretcher came to a halt somewhere in the ER. Carlos wasn’t really paying attention to much other than the pain that flooded his senses and the worry he had for TK. 

Carlos chuckled humourlessly. There wasn't much else he could do. His shoulder hurt like a bitch but at this point, it was the least of his concerns. You get to a point where so much bad stuff goes down in such a short time that you’re just like “this might as well happen”.

"What's your name?" the doctor asked. He was a tall man and the definition of conventionally attractive. Blond hair and piercing blue eyes. If it were any other day, Carlos would care about a handsome man seeing him in such a messed up state, but he really felt far too terrible to care. At this point, the only other person he cared about was TK. 

He didn’t know what he’d do if he walked away from this and TK didn’t. It was too much to even think about. 

How do you go from heart eyes on the first date and entertaining the idea of forever with someone to thinking about how they could die that same night? And that it might be your fault?

"Carlos Reyes."

"And, Mr Reyes, can you tell me what happened?"

"My friend and I were riding on his motorcycle,” Carlos paused to swallow quickly, hoping his rampant emotions and prickling tears would go with it, “and suddenly I was lying on the road." 

The doctor scribbled away on his clipboard. Carlos didn’t know if he wanted to find out what it said. Realistically, he knew he was being evaluated for a concussion, but his anxiety told him that they were finding a way to pin this on him. He wasn’t so sure if he disagreed with that. He agreed to ride the bike with TK. He wore the helmet when TK didn’t. It all boiled down to the things that he could’ve- _should’ve_ done better. 

"What's your friend's name?"

Friend seemed like the wrong word. They weren't acquaintances, not really. But it's not like they were boyfriends, it was their first date. One date that he had hoped was of many, but even if everything sorted itself out, who would want to be in a relationship with someone they got into a crash with on day one? 

"TK Strand."

"And were you both wearing helmets?"

"Just me,” Carlos said in a small voice. He wasn’t sure he’d ever live through the regret of letting TK get hurt because he was nervous. 

"And why's that?"

"It's his helmet. I was nervous so he let me wear it. He thought nothing was going to happen."

The doctor offered him a tight-lipped nod. "Because you were wearing a helmet, you're less likely to have a serious brain injury. Which is good news."

"But not for TK."

"He's getting the best care possible, I assure you."

Carlos hated that the doctor couldn't promise him anything. Couldn't lie to him to ease his mind and make him believe that TK would pull through.

Although he'd barely seen it, the mangled mess that became of the bike was imprinted on the inside of his eyelids, the image plagued him every time he closed his eyes, sending a fresh wave of anxiety through him each time. He'd also seen TK lying next to the bike, paramedics tending to him and preparing him for transport. 

He wanted the doctor to tell him that it was all going to be okay, that TK was going to be fine. He wanted to be coddled like a child and promised that everything would end in a happily ever after. 

He wanted to pretend that he hadn't seen the blood all over TK's face.

💙

Carlos looked up from the book he was definitely not reading and more accurately trying to glare a hole through as someone sat down across from him at the table. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but TK looking at him with eyes full of mischief and something else Carlos couldn’t quite pin down, wasn’t on the list.

Pulling out his earbuds, Carlos gave TK a skeptical look. 

“Hey?” 

“Carlos.” TK was practically vibrating with excitement, if Carlos wasn’t so concerned with becoming the victim of another infamous Iris Blake prank, he would find it absolutely heart-stoppingly endearing. 

“Yes?” Carlos asked, closing his book and setting it aside. 

“Are you going to the dance showcase next week?”

“I hadn’t really thought of it. I have a lot of papers due around that time and Paul promised he’d record Iris’ performance for me.”

TK grabbed one of Carlos’ hands between both of his and shook it a little, his face lighting up. “You should definitely come! I have a solo and it’s going to be so epic and I’d really like it if you came to see it.”

Carlos really didn’t have the heart so say no to TK.

“I’ll be there,” he said, his lips involuntarily stretching into a fond smile.

“Wonderful, you’re the best!” TK cheered before releasing Carlos’ hand and skittering off.

Carlos pulled the hand TK held close to his chest and couldn’t help relishing in the warmth he felt knowing that he had made TK smile like that.

💙

_Eleven hours is too long._

TK had been in surgery for eleven hours. Carlos couldn’t even begin to conceptualise how bad things had to be for him to be in the operating room for so long. He didn’t want to dwell on it.

He had to hope for the best, he had to try and believe that TK would be okay, or he would fall apart. 

If he crumbled now, he had no hope of pulling the pieces of himself back together.

"Carlos?" 

Iris gently pried Carlos' hand from his face, setting it down in his lap. The sight of Iris’ face was a breath of fresh air after however long he'd spent staring at the floor. The same speckled pattern on the while linoleum that filled Carlos’ brain with TV static if he stared long enough. 

"Hi," Carlos offered Iris a shaky smile. 

Iris was ready with a hand cupping Carlos' cheek to wipe the tears that immediately started their descent. She didn't complain, or ask what happened, she just let Carlos cry it out, carefully maneuvering her friend into an awkward embrace. There was a hand rubbing circles into Carlos' back and it somehow shook more tears loose as they fell onto Iris's shirt. 

"How are you holding up?"

He didn't answer, just cried harder. He'd had a hard day. Iris didn't seem annoyed, just timidly squeezing Carlos in reassurance. He knew she was trying to comfort him as best she should without agitating any of his injuries, but something in him just craved for her to hold him so tightly that all of his broken pieces moved back into place. 

"What a shitty date, huh?" Carlos could tell that Iris was just trying to lighten the mood, take the edge off of the situation. But regardless of anything they did or said, they were sitting in the rickety uncomfortable chairs outside of the operating room.

"Yeah..." Carlos breathed into his best friend's shirt.

"Did you call anyone other than me?"

Despite the searing pain, Carlos shook his head. He couldn’t seem to find the energy to talk, exhaustion was set deep into his bones but he couldn’t bear the idea of going home. Rest meant leaving TK, he could do a lot of things but he couldn’t do that.

Iris took the incentive to grab out her phone and do some scrolling, tapping away at the screen while still keeping an arm around Carlos.

After a few minutes, she pressed her phone to her ear and planted a soft kiss on Carlos’ temple. "Hey Marjan, I'm a friend of TK’s and I'm just calling to let you know that he got into an accident last night and it's pretty serious. If you could pass that on to anyone that needs to know, I'd appreciate it." 

She continued talking for a while longer but Carlos tuned out of the conversation. He was too tired to focus on much. He knew if he brought it up to Iris, she would force him to go home and get someone to give them updates but Carlos doubted he could sleep well if he didn’t know if TK was going to be okay. 

Once Iris finished her phone conversation, she continued tapping away at the screen. 

“I’m letting your and TK’s professors know what’s happened. You don’t have to worry about anything other than getting enough rest to recover,” she explained. 

Carlos wanted to tell Iris that he didn’t want to rest and recover, all he wanted was for TK to be okay. TK had to make it, Carlos had only known TK for such a short time but he couldn’t handle having to lose him. 

Everything was so new, so beautiful and exciting. TK’s every touch sent electricity dancing across Carlos’ skin and his smiles set free butterflies in his stomach. He was tipsy on loving TK and he wasn’t ready for their story to end. 

"What happened?" Marjan's breath came in ragged pants as she burst through the door and into the waiting room. She must've run. 

"Hit and run. TK got the worst of it,” Iris explained, giving Carlos a comforting pat on his good shoulder.

Carlos took a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."

Marjan's expression twisted into one of confusion. "For what?"

"It's my fault." Carlos returned his gaze to the floor, unable to look Marjan in the eyes. 

"It's no one's fault but the driver that hit you guys,” Iris objected, her tone firm and unwavering. Maybe even a little angry? Carlos envied her ability to stay calm in a crisis like this.

"Are you okay to be here? That looks like it hurts,” Marjan said, her face softened in empathy. She seemed nice, he could see why her and TK were such close friends. He’d heard from both TK and Iris that Marjan was fiercely protective as well as willing to die with a secret. It was such a shame to meet her in a situation like this.

"It doesn't matter,” Carlos mumbled.

“It does matter, Carlos. You’re hurt. You’ve been through hell and you need nothing more than you need a good night’s sleep and an actual meal in your system.”

“No. What I need is for him to be okay.”

“He won’t like it if you’re jeopardising your own health for him. I know TK Strand well enough to know that he’d rip me to shreds for letting you do something so stupid,” Iris explained. She was trying very hard to convince Carlos to go home, but he wouldn’t budge. Not until TK was out of surgery at the very least.

This wasn’t going to be an easy day, nor one that he’d forget for a long time.

Carlos let out a heavy sigh, hoping that with it, it would take the weight from his shoulders, but he couldn’t get that lucky. "How do we move on from this? He's going to hate me. I did this to him."

"You didn't do anything. He chose not to wear the helmet, he knew the risk he was taking."

A sob tore itself free from Carlos's throat. "He's going to die isn't he?"

"It'll be okay,” Iris promised, but Carlos knew that she was only saying that for him. There was no way to be certain of anything, and that fact killed Carlos. 

💙

“You should definitely come to the showcase,” Iris said as she pretty much draped herself in Carlos’ lap. She was like a cat in that way, if Carlos was trying to do anything when she was around, she disrupted that activity. 

They’d been sitting on his bed for the past few hours, both typing away at respective essays between letting out dramatic groans and declarations about how they were going to drop out and live in the woods. Clearly, Iris had either finished or given up on hers. Both options were equally likely. 

Carlos was constantly in awe of her ability to keep up with both of her majors which were nothing short of demanding. Hours of rehearsals and practices finished off with a mountain of study. She was a force to be reckoned with. 

“TK already invited me,” Carlos said absently, still typing away. 

Iris sat bolt upright and grabbed Carlos’ shirt, twisting him away from his screen. “And you didn’t tell me?!” 

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Carlos said, shrugging and setting his laptop aside. He wasn’t going to be allowed to get back to his work for a while.

“Are you insane? Of course it’s a big deal when the dude you’ve been crushing on for two months invites you on a date!”

“It’s not a date,” Carlos objected. “He just invited me to go see him dance and maybe get something to eat afterwards.”

“That’s a date.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “No it’s not. It’s just me supporting my friend.”

“Yeah right, the amount of heart emojis in your texts beg to differ,” Iris teased, jabbing and accusatory finger in Carlos’ direction.

“They make messages seem less abrasive. Sue me.”

“They also make you a lot more gay for one TK Strand.”

Carlos just sighed and brushed Iris’ hair out of her face. “You are insufferable.”

“You’re damn right I am,” she snickered. 

💙

Even though he was stopping by almost every day for hours on end, it never got easier to see TK in the ICU. 

The wires, the monitors, the bandages, the ventilator. It was _a lot_. It always made Carlos’ stomach turn. Regret was most of it. Regret that he not insist on taking the bus. Insist on TK keeping his helmet on. 

The doctors said they wouldn’t be able to determine the extent of the damage the swelling caused on his brain until he woke up. But they also said that the longer he was comatose, the less likely it was that he’d ever wake up. 

The thought of that scared the shit out of Carlos. 

Even after multiple surgeries and almost two weeks in intensive care, it still might not be enough.

Truly the only thing keeping Carlos from losing every shred of composure was that he could watch the heart monitor and be comforted by the fact that TK was alive. He hadn’t given up yet. 

And if that was all Carlos had to hold onto for the time being, so be it. 

That was how Carlos ended up meeting Owen Strand, under much-less-than-ideal circumstances.

It wasn’t all bad though. Whenever Carlos got there before Owen, he was met with a hot coffee pressed into his palm half an hour later. The fact that it was undrinkable hospital coffee was beside the point. Carlos appreciated the gesture and more often than not, he needed the caffeine. 

“Have you eaten?” Owen asked as he pulled out the chair on the other side of TK’s bed, taking his son’s hand in his own. 

Carlos shrugged. “Not yet. I have class later, I was going to pick something up on the way.”

Owen raised an eyebrow at that statement. “Class? Aren’t you supposed to be taking it easy?”

“It’s nothing too strenuous, I’ll manage. Don’t worry,” Carlos said, averting his gaze as to not meet Owen’s eyes. He was far too good at the disappointed dad stare for Carlos’ comfort. He never really knew where to look, he always found it hard to let his eyes linger on TK for too long, a wrenching feeling in his heart like there was a wrecking ball swinging around in his chest. 

He needed TK to be okay. Preferably soon, but he would wait forever for TK and that fact was becoming more and more clear as time went on.

“It’s hard not to worry.”

“I’m just going too stir-crazy in my dorm. I need something to work on when visit hours are over.”

“As long as you’re taking adequate care of yourself, I suppose that’s all I can ask for. You’re like TK in that way.”

Most of their conversations circled back to TK. After all, it was what they had in common. As the days passed Owen had made a routine of making sure Carlos was okay too, and likewise, Carlos made sure Owen was sleeping alright.

It was a weird relationship, that’s for sure. But not an unwelcome one. 

💙

“Hey, Carlos, wait up!” 

Carlos didn’t even have time to turn around before someone was pretty much pouncing on him, grabbing onto his shoulder as they jumped. 

TK with his hair a mess and his green eyes positively sparkling in the afternoon sun, stared up at Carlos with overflowing excitement. Before it all fizzled out and TK was looking at Carlos’ shoes. 

“TK?” Carlos started, reaching for TK’s shoulder, “are you okay?”

Much to Carlos’ surprise, TK stepped away from him, shrugging off the contact. Usually TK welcomed and even insisted on contact with everyone he hung out with. 

“I- Yeah. Carlos?”

“What is it?” Carlos was getting concerned now, this was completely out of character for TK.

“Would you like to go out for food with me, this Friday?”

“Oh, yeah, totally. Maybe Iris could come along.”

“I mean as a date.”

“Oh- oh.” It was Carlos’ turn to be flustered. “Yeah, that’d be great.” 

TK took a few seconds to blink, staring up at Carlos with his mouth agape as if he didn’t expect Carlos to say yes. Either Carlos was more subtle than he thought he was, or TK was the single most oblivious person on earth. 

Where Carlos had thought his crush on TK had been so painfully obvious for the past few months, he was left stunned that TK didn’t just walk up to him, ask him on a date and leave him hanging on for more. That was definitely something he would let TK get away with, likely with zero complaints.

As Iris would put it, Carlos was whipped. 

Even after TK left him with a hurried, “thank you, I’ll text you more details,” Carlos was still stunned, completely awe-struck by what just happened.

TK Strand just asked him on a date.

_TK Strand just asked him on a date._

Carlos wasn’t going to be able to wrap his head around that any time soon. For now, all he knew he had to do was call Iris and get her in on the excitement. 

💙

Carlos's breath hitched at the sight of TK's fluttering eyelids. He'd been warned about when TK would wake up. Confusion. Memory Loss. They didn't know how much function he would retain from before the crash. 

"Wha- What happened?" TK's words weren't clear, sounding more as if they were underwater than passing through a few feet of air. But Carlos could understand him.

"There was an accident. You're in hospital."

"What?" TK’s face scrunched up as the words took a moment to process.

"We were riding your bike and got hit by a car,” Carlos said, swallowing the way he suddenly wanted to throw up. It was still a fresh wound that kept him up at night. Not that he’d tell anyone other than Iris and Paul who stayed with him during those sleepless nights. “You weren't wearing a helmet."

"Are you okay?" Only TK could wake up from a coma and ask Carlos if he was okay. 

"As okay as I can be. Whiplash, dislocated shoulder and a bit of road rash." Carlos inhaled shakily. "You could have died."

"Is the bike okay?"

Carlos just glared. "They'll be lucky if there's any salvageable scrap metal. You better start memorizing the bus timetable."

"Fuck. That bike cost me a leg."

"Almost cost you your life, too."

TK flinched at that. Carlos immediately regretted speaking so hastily, TK had literally just woken up, Carlos needed a softer touch. "It's fine, I'm alive."

Carlos was doing a lot of glaring today.

"Sorry our first date sucked so bad."

Carlos just shrugged, at this point that was the last thing on his mind. "It's not your fault. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Are you okay, though?" TK’s eyes were so wide and earnest, Carlos couldn’t help but melt.

"I'll be fine."

"I was worried."

The amount of concern TK managed to hold for Carlos was sweet, even if it was nothing comparable to Carlos’ own worry in the past two weeks. TK was so honest and open right now, there were no walls between them and the truth. "I know. The paramedics said you were calling my name the entire way to the hospital."

"I don't remember that. Sounds like me though." 

"They said you'd be confused and forget things. It's normal."

"How much do you remember?"

"We were on the bike one second and then I was blinking up at the stars. Everything hurt and I was scared." Carlos laughed shakily, wiping at his eyes. He didn't even notice the tears before they split over. "Sorry. You're the one who had surgery and hasn't woken up for two weeks, and I'm the one crying."

"Hey, no, you're allowed to cry. I don't remember anything, no pain, nothing. I didn't have to feel that pain or that fear. It must've been horrible,” TK whispered, reaching up to cup Carlos’ cheek in his hand, using his thumb to clumsily wipe away the tears.

"It was. I thought you were dead and it was all going to be my fault."

"How would it be your fault?"

"I made you let me wear your helmet and you ended up with a traumatic brain injury!" Carlos didn't know where the anger had come from. He didn't mean to yell. He'd spent so many tears on worrying about TK over the past week. The relief of seeing TK awake and talking must've taken away from the urge to treat him like he was made of glass.

The broken expression he was met with made his heart sink. He didn't mean to yell.

"What?" TK asked in a very small, scared voice.

"I wasn't lying when I said you almost died. Not to mention the cracked ribs, a broken wrist and ankle. It was bad."

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. It’s not your fault.”

“TK?” 

Carlos would never forget the way TK’s face lit up as his eyes fell on his father standing in the doorway. It was a tearful reunion, that’s for sure.

💙

Carlos was positively giddy. He couldn’t help it, he was actually going on a date with the guy he’d been not-so-subtly crushing on for months. He still wasn’t all that convinced that he wasn’t dreaming.

Even as he sat across the table from TK, who looked simultaneously like an angel sent to bless his eyes and the world’s most nervous wreck, he wasn’t sure any of it was real. He couldn’t get _that lucky._

“So,” TK started, anxiously rubbing his hands on his pants, “how are you?”

This wasn’t painfully awkward at all. 

“Good, you?”

TK’s eyes lit up in the same way that Iris’ did when she was about to ramble for the next three years. “I’ve got a choreography assessment and Iris agreed to perform it with me. She’s always downplaying how good she is, but I really think we have such a great performance in the works. Maybe you’ll be able to see it when it’s done.”

“I’d love to see it, honestly. You were amazing at the showcase, really, and Iris is always phenomenal,” Carlos said, completely unable to wipe the smile from his face. He probably looked like the most lovesick fool ever, but he didn’t care, he was here with TK and there was nowhere better to be. At least in his eyes.

Apparently that was the right thing to say because TK’s face cracked into the biggest smile Carlos had ever seen.

“Right? Oh, she’s just the best. I don’t think anyone else could keep up with my constant stream of ideas as flawlessly as she does. How did you guys meet?” 

“We met in highschool, lab partners. She’s way smarter than she gives herself credit for.”

TK leant back in his chair and let out a dramatic sigh before flinging himself back upright. “I could never do a science-heavy major like that. You’re both inhumanly smart in my books.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Carlos shrugged. “And I couldn’t possibly dance like you do without breaking like, every bone in my body, so you’re impressive in your own right.” 

Carlos didn’t think he’d ever get over how beautiful it was when TK laughed. He wasn’t going to get over the rush of butterflies he got whenever TK so much as looked in his direction anytime soon.

💙

TK pressed his phone into Carlos's face.

"What do you think?"

Carlos didn't even have to spare the picture more than a glance. "No."

"Why not?" TK asked, pouting and sitting back on his heels.

"It's a death trap."

TK crossed his arms and intensified his pout, furrowing his eyebrows. "No it's not. It's a motorcycle."

"You almost died on your last one,” Carlos said matter-of-factly, trying to ignore the way the words felt like acid in his mouth. His therapist kept saying that he needed to get used to acknowledging what happened but that didn’t make it any easier to admit.

"It wasn’t the bike’s fault,” TK huffed.

“You can’t even drive for another four months at least. Even then, I wouldn’t be okay with you on another bike.”

TK wrapped an arm around Carlos’ waist and pulled him onto the couch by his side. Carlos nestled his head in the crook of TK’s neck, it was their routine. Nothing calmed Carlos like the warmth of TK’s skin, the confirmation that blood was flowing beneath his skin, that he was alive. 

They’d discovered it when TK insisted that Carlos stay the night and they shared the bed. Of course, the nightmares didn’t stop, their presence a new constant in Carlos’ life. 

TK was a new constant in Carlos’ life, too.

Warm arms held Carlos when he cried from the nightmares. Every night, without fail, TK steadied his racing heart and reassured him in soft whispers until Carlos could fall back asleep. It was a vast improvement from Iris holding him as he cried until dawn.

The nightmares were bad. Carlos won’t pretend otherwise. Every night since the accident he dreamt of lying on his back, hurt and terrified. It wasn’t always in the middle of the road with a dislocated shoulder. Sometimes he was in an alley with a knife in his chest. Sometimes he was in a shallow creek with water in his lungs as it raced past him. Sometimes he was on the bathroom floor with a handful of pills. Sometimes TK was there, leaning over him and begging him to stay awake. Sometimes Carlos was alone. Other times he told Carlos that help was coming. Every night his face was covered in blood.

“I know you’re scared.”

Carlos laughed dryly against TK’s skin. “You could say that.”

“If it’ll give you peace of mind, I won’t get another bike unless you’re okay with it. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s a bad look to make your boyfriend cry.”

It went unspoken between them. _You‘re taking this harder than I am. You wouldn’t cope with the idea that I could be lying in the gutter somewhere._ TK knew better than anyone how bad it was for Carlos to deal with the aftermath. TK didn’t freeze at the side of the road, his chest didn’t constrict at the sound of an engine revving or a car backfiring. He felt that the weekly counselling sessions were unnecessary for him, but he saw the fear in Carlos’ eyes when he held up the picture. 

To TK, it was just a bike.

To Carlos, it was a machine that could’ve ended both of their lives before twenty five.

And neither of them were wrong.

“You don’t have to worry. I won’t break my promise. I couldn’t hurt you like that, I’ve already hurt you enough.” TK’s fingers trailed over the scar on Carlos’ forehead where the skin broke against the road. 

"Thank you." 

It still wasn't easy for TK, finding that the simplest tasks were now impossible. The migraines were debilitating, he couldn't button his shirt or tie a knot, walking only happened a few steps at a time. Things would improve over time, but they would never be the same again.

But they had each other through it all, a constant support system with no secrets and no judgement.

They were going to be okay.

Carlos was sure of it.

💙

Carlos never knew how much he would actually enjoy riding a motorcycle. It was definitely never something he had on his bucket list, but there was something so freeing about it. The wind raced past and he felt like a bird in flight.

If birds flew with their arms wrapped around TK.

Which was another perk. Being this close to TK was simultaneously a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he was here, with TK, and there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. A curse because he never wanted this to end, but eventually he’d have to get off the bike, hand TK his helmet back and walk up to his dorm, not sure if a second date was in his future.

That was until there was the brilliant shine of headlights that seemed far too close and a horn so loud it shook him to his core.

**Author's Note:**

> title from: all time low - missing you
> 
> thank you so much for reading!! i've been working on this fic for a while and i'm really proud that i get to post it
> 
> [tumblr](https://sunsetcxrve.tumblr.com/)


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